MISSING in Action

An ace fighter pilot vanished while defending Darwin against the town’s 53rd Japanese air raid.

BY KRISTEN ALEXANDER

As a Japanese force powered towards Darwin, Squadron Leader Raymond Thorold-Smith climbed to meet it. “We’ll try and hit them before they bomb!” The 24-yearold fighter pilot, who had wanted to “have a crack at Hitler” and defend his homeland, was killed in battle on 15 March 1943. His body was never found.

After completing operational training at 57 OTU, Hawarden on the Welsh–English border, Raymond ThoroldSmith joined 452 Squadron RAAF, then based at Kirton-in-Lindsey, in mid-April 1941. Nicknamed ‘Throttle’, he gloried in the Spitfire’s speed and manoeuvrability. He claimed his first victory – a half share in a Messerschmitt Bf 109F – on 9 August. Demonstrating an aggressive fighting style, he downed two Bf 109Es on the 27th and another on 18 September. On 13 October, he fired a two-second machine-gun burst into a Bf 109’s belly, escaping a near collision as it plummeted, and then damaged another Bf 109. Thorold-Smith brushed aside his success: “The German was a sitter, I couldn’t miss him.”

Promoted to acting flight lieutenant on 15 October 1942, he was appointed flight commander at the end of the month. His final victories on 6 November were against the formidable Focke-Wulf Fw 190 and a Messerschmitt Bf 109F that “blew up after a dog fight”. The Messerschmitt “gave a fireworks display”, ThoroldSmith told reporters. “Green smoke poured out of it and then bits of it fell off all over the place.” The 23-yearold, considered just an average pilot at his Australian and Canadian training schools, was now a fighter ace with six, plus one shared, enemy aircraft destroyed and one damaged to his credit. The “first class fighter pilot” and “most determined and capable flight leader” was awarded an immediate Distinguished Flying Cross.

Within months, 452 Squadron had been stripped of key personnel and was withdrawn from operations to the Isle of Man. Declared by the media to be “one of the outstanding successes of the Empire Air Training Scheme”, Thorold-Smith was promoted to acting squadron leader and commanding officer in March 1942. Now deemed to possess exceptional flying ability, he determined that the squadron would regain operational status as soon as possible and implemented a rigorous training program.

Throttle continued to fly hard and fast, led by example and, even after a solid day’s work in the air, did not shirk night-flying duty. Respected by pilots and ground crew alike, ThoroldSmith became known as an experienced and effective operator, as well as a “fine man and a wonderful CO” who “looked after his men well”.

As Thorold-Smith diligently trained his pilots, Australia’s Minister for External Affairs, Dr Herbert Vere Evatt, was attempting to secure Australia’s defence against the Japanese in the wake of Darwin’s bombing on 19 February 1942. Evatt pressed Britain’s prime minister, Winston Churchill, for Spitfires and pilots. Churchill agreed to his request and 452 and 457 Squadrons RAAF and 54 Squadron RAF were soon on their way to Australia. ThoroldSmith would have been pleased at the opportunity to defend his homeland.

“Everyone realises how lucky we are to have been born Australians,” he had told his family. “You really don’t know till you leave it how much love you bear it.”

Darwin defence

The Spitfire squadrons arrived in Port Melbourne on 13 August 1942 but Thorold-Smith enjoyed no grand reunions. He had contracted glandular fever. “I am so furious at being sick!” Despite assuring his mother that “my sickness is very mild,” Thorold-Smith realised he would “probably be off flying for a few weeks.” The newly designated No. 1 Fighter Wing had only six Spitfires when Thorold-Smith returned to duty, as most had been diverted to the Middle East en route to Australia. The aircraft drought was soon over, however, and on 23 November Thorold-Smith implemented a training program designed to bring 452 Squadron to the “highest operational pitch”.

As Wing Commander Flying, desert war fighter ace Clive Caldwell was responsible for the wing’s tactical defence. Caldwell and ThoroldSmith were old friends. With similar senses of humour, they often joked around together and were not averse to a bit of roughhousing. Training at the wing’s bases on the outskirts of Sydney progressed steadily throughout December. Thorold-Smith and Caldwell were both skilled dogfighters – their victory counts attest to their success in close-quarters aerial battles – thus mock dogfighting and aerobatics were on both wing and squadron training agendas. Enthusiasts of the “big wing” doctrine (RAF Fighter Command’s standard tactic for offensive operations), Thorold-Smith and Caldwell scheduled formation exercises that followed pre-arranged set moves. One of these was “the Balbo” – named after Italo Balbo, the Italian aviator and former general of the Italian air force, renowned for leading large formations of aircraft. In the Balbo, the wing leader directed three or more squadrons en masse.

The wait to be sent into action was soon over. The Spitfire Wing arrived in Darwin on 17 January 1943: 54 Squadron was based at RAAF Darwin, 457 was at Livingstone, 55 kilometres to the south, and 452 settled into Strauss, 45 kilometres south. The wing’s Australian defence was about to begin.

Thorold-Smith notched up few aerial hours during January and February, and missed out on the wing’s first successful encounter against the enemy on 6 February. Flying Mk. V Spitfire BS231, he had participated in a little formation work and local flying, convoy protection, and three night readiness stints. March, too, brought Thorold-Smith only a handful of operational sorties. Limited enemy activity, bad weather and paperwork continued to ground him. Perhaps, too, lingering glandular fever-induced fatigue contributed to his reduced flying hours. The result was that he had had no opportunity to test either his training program or his ability to lead his squadron into battle against the Japanese.

Tally-ho!

Thorold-Smith was tired. He had not slept for more than 36 hours. After responding to a Japanese incursion on 14 March, he engaged in a 95-minute practice interception at RAAF Darwin. He and a five-man contingent from 452 Squadron were then rostered on for night readiness, playing cards to stay awake. At 10.30 am on the 15th, Thorold-Smith decided to return to Strauss Airfield; one pilot stayed behind, so only five took off. Their oxygen bottles were nearly empty but, because the pumps at Darwin were perennially unserviceable, it was easier to refill them at Strauss.

Caldwell was at 5 Fighter Sector Control receiving minor medical treatment when he was alerted that a full-scale Japanese raid was in progress: it was the 53rd raid over Darwin. Twenty-two Mitsubishi G4M Navy Type 1 attack bombers (known to the Australians as Bettys) flown by 753 Kokutai (Naval Air Group), tightly escorted by 27 Mitsubishi A6M Reisen fighters (Zeroes) from 202 Kokutai , were converging on Darwin.

Despite Thorold-Smith’s lack of recent battle experience or as a wing leader, Caldwell advised the sector controller that 452 Squadron’s CO was to direct the defence. Again flying Spitfire BS231, Thorold-Smith was halfway to Strauss when the controller instructed him to take command; he was to rendezvous with the wing over Hughes Airfield (51 km south of Darwin and roughly equidistant between Strauss and Livingstone). As they had practised, a wing Balbo formation would face the enemy.

Over the next 20 minutes, 54, 457, and the rest of 452 Squadron took off. Meanwhile, Thorold-Smith’s section changed direction and began their ascent. As they reached 17,500 feet, two were forced to drop out: they had run out of oxygen. Thorold-Smith, Flight Lieutenant Ted Hall and Flying Officer Adrian Goldsmith continued to climb. Now just three aircraft, 54 Squadron rendezvoused with Thorold-Smith’s section but 457 and the rest of 452’s pilots straggled behind.

Throttle sped ahead, Hall on his right, Goldsmith to the left. They had attained 20,000 feet due north of Lee Point when Thorold-Smith saw a large formation to the north-west, just off the coast. It was daunting, “reminiscent of the Battle of Britain”, the 54 Squadron diarist later recorded: “most of us had not seen such a sight since that time.”

Thorold-Smith called the “tally-ho” (for “enemy in sight”) and changed course to meet the enemy. He continued to climb to 23,000 feet in a wide line abreast; 54 Squadron was with him but 457 and 452 were still trailing below. The wing still did not have unity or height – but ThoroldSmith decided to target the bombers before they reached Darwin. Ordering the attack just over Point Charles, Thorold-Smith instructed 54 Squadron to act as cover. He called his section to strike at the bombers; 457 and 452, which had caught up, would follow. But 54 Squadron was still too low. They could not climb high enough because Throttle was going too fast.

The Zeroes were between the Spitfires and the main enemy formation. Despite not having a clear run, Thorold-Smith dived a thousand feet onto the bombers to the left, with Hall and Goldsmith following. Hall “saw the CO fire at one of the fighters, and I called the others to watch out.” Simultaneously, enemy fighters closed in from the rear. Hall glimpsed Thorold-Smith as he turned from west to north in a slight dive, going down with a pair of Zeroes firing at his tail. Goldsmith also saw a smoking Spitfire diving vertically. Hall called out to Thorold-Smith. There was no answer.

“Smithy killed”

No one took over as leader. Spitfires were bounced (attacked from above) by Zeroes and it was virtually an everyman-for-himself situation. As the 457 Squadron diarist later described it, a “general dogfight ensued with the Zeroes over Darwin Harbour.” The wing later claimed six bombers and two fighters shot down. It seems, though, that – as was common – verified claims were based on more than one pilot seeing the same Zero plunge into the sea. Later research indicated that only one Japanese fighter had been shot down.

Thorold-Smith’s leadership had failed. He had ignored the basic rule of combat: do not attack until you have a tactical advantage. With little hindrance from the wing because of the Zeroes’ determined protection, the Bettys were not thwarted from their task. Darwin was bombed.

The wing lost men and machines. Two 54 Squadron pilots died. One from 452 bailed out and survived; his Spitfire was destroyed. But what of Raymond Thorold-Smith who, before taking off from Darwin that morning, had totalled 747 hours 40 minutes flying time, with just over 540 hours on Spitfires?

An aerial search of the Point Charles area, as well as the sea to the north-west, was carried out that afternoon. There was no sign of Thorold-Smith or BS231. The next day, 5 Fighter Sector Control advised that a Spitfire in a shallow dive had crashed a short distance from Flagstaff Hill. The squadron was despatched to the new site. Again, no trace of wreckage or man. The search was called off. ThoroldSmith was presumed to be dead. In a rare tribute – he did not do this for others who had died in action – Caldwell noted “Smithy killed” in his flying logbook.

What went wrong?

Caldwell could not simply mourn. As wing leader, he had to interrogate Thorold-Smith’s battle performance. The big wing defence would ultimately prove useless against Japanese tactics, but Caldwell could only base his analysis on how their pre-determined strategy had been effected. Reluctant to criticise a friend, Caldwell approached his tactical appreciation “with diffidence”.

Rather than second-guess ThoroldSmith’s actions, he speculated that factors “not apparent to others” had “dictated the methods employed”. He also firmly blamed 54 Squadron. They had not caught up to Thorold-Smith’s section, nor climbed high enough to provide cover. They had been “jumped from out of the sun”. Caldwell did not acknowledge that 54 had failed to “fly the battle formation they have been trained to do” only because ThoroldSmith had led too fast, impetuously ordering the attack before all elements of the wing were in position.

Caldwell continued to believe his old friend knew what he was doing. Years later, in a hand-written annotation on his copy of the tactical appreciation, he stated that 452 Squadron’s commanding officer “was an experience[d] and very able fighter pilot and so must have been convinced of the need to make the attack he did despite being at a clear disadvantage.”

But experienced pilots do not make basic mistakes. Thorold-Smith’s decision to strike without the tactical advantage is only comprehensible if we consider that his flawed judgement might have arisen from hypoxia, a state which results in lightheadedness, confusion, euphoria or even hallucinations because of low levels of inspired oxygen (oxygen that has been breathed in) – which the pilot may be barely aware of. Without oxygen at high altitudes, he will rapidly lapse into unconsciousness.

Thorold-Smith’s oxygen supply had not been replenished before leaving RAAF Darwin. Two of his men dropped out of the battle climb because of empty oxygen bottles. Thorold-Smith must have still been wearing his face mask, which also contained his radio transmitter microphone, because he was heard directing the wing into battle position. For this reason, he could not gulp in air as he increased altitude. It is likely, then, that he was suffering oxygen deprivation.

There is a very brief period between the interruption of oxygen supply and the onset of its physical effects. During this time, a pilot can still fly effectively – hence Thorold-Smith’s initial ability to orchestrate the Balbo. But this time of useful consciousness (TUC) quickly decreases at higher altitudes. Impaired physical fitness also hampers effective

Left: With Japanese raiders inbound, members of an RAAF Spitfire Squadron run for their aircraft. Photograph: Harry Turner. AWM 014491

Below: John Baird, Mechanics working on a fighter plane, (1943, black conte crayon, 46 x 38cm). Leading Aircraftmen Guy and Holden adjusting the air screws on a Spitfire in Darwin. AWM ART27854 performance. Thorold-Smith had had little sleep beforehand, and perhaps he still experienced post-glandular fever fatigue: a remote possibility that cannot be discounted. Without oxygen, Thorold-Smith’s TUC was limited. Speeding for roughly 40 minutes to an attack height – 18,000 feet, 20,000 feet, 23,000 feet – his mental acuity would have rapidly diminished.

Pumped up to do battle at his first sight of a massed Japanese force, in an escalating state of hypoxia-induced euphoria or confusion, Thorold-Smith could well have ordered the attack, selected a target, and fired. And, in turn, was fired upon.

Below: Four Spitfires were shot down during a Japanese raid on Darwin on 15 March 1943. At least 14 Japanese aircraft were shot down and many others badly damaged. Photograph: Harry Turner. AWM 014565

Inset: Spitfire P7973 was acquired by the Australian War Memorial in 1945. Raymond Thorold-Smith was the first to fly P7973 operationally on 19 June 1941.

The West Arm Spitfire

An aircraft wreck was discovered in Darwin’s West Arm in the early 1960s. Police and the RAAF were advised. In November 1966, RAAF security police and civilian detectives visited the site. They discovered a singleengine, four-gunned aircraft, riddled with cannon and machine-gun fire, deeply embedded in mangrove mud. Even though the RAAF had been aware of the wreck, until then they had not identified it. They now believed it to be a Spitfire. A cannon, two machine-guns, and other objects, including the cockpit canopy and smashed windscreen, were removed. A newspaper report made no mention of the pilot’s remains.

No formal investigation of the wreck appears to have been conducted until that of the Aviation Historical Society of the Northern Territory (AHSNT) on 6 November 1983. Partially visible in the tidal waters was part of a corroded airframe, positioned in a straight and level attitude, sitting in a roughly north/south line which indicated that the aircraft had been flying in a northerly direction. Two propeller blades were bent in such a way that indicated a power-on impact. Both wings appeared to have been sheared off but were nearby. Also apparent was an elongated depression, later assessed as the wake of the aircraft’s movement through the sediment as it ploughed to a halt. A large quantity of 20 mm ammunition was found. A number of items taken from the wreck confirmed that the aircraft was a Mk. V Spitfire. The remains of the pilot were not evident.

At low tide on 4 December, AHSNT member and aviation historian Bob Alford inspected the site in his capacity as an RAAF armourer. His brief was to safely remove weapons and derelict ammunition, and obtain the aircraft identification plate. Again, only part of the wreck was visible. Because of the possibility of crocodiles, Alford rapidly sketched the site and examined the interior by feel.

The crash site was some distance from the original Point Charles and Flagstaff Hill search areas. Could the West Arm wreck possibly be BS231? Evidence certainly suggested it. The aircraft’s disposition validated Ted Hall’s sighting during the battle of a Spitfire which had turned to the north in a slight dive. Spent ammunition in the wreck confirmed Hall’s account that the diving Spitfire had been fired upon. Alford’s examination further revealed that this machine had crashed with the propeller in coarse pitch and undercarriage retracted; the pilot had not lowered it in order to land. Assuming it was BS231, and ThoroldSmith had been trying to put down, he would have changed pitch and probably deployed the flaps to slow the Spitfire. That he had not suggests that ThoroldSmith was injured, in a state of hypoxiainduced confusion, unconscious, or dead. Each of these states would explain why he had not changed pitch or lowered the undercarriage – and so would battle-damaged controls. With the pilot dead or unconscious, the aircraft continued to descend in a semicontrolled manner until it crashed. It is no wonder that BS231 had not been located after the battle. As was later ascertained, the site was underwater on 15 March 1943.

But Alford discovered no skeletal remains. With the earlier removal of the canopy, there was no way to determine if Thorold-Smith had parachuted out with the Spitfire continuing in a gradual descent or had tried to climb out after entering the water. Searchers had found no canopy. So, if Thorold-Smith had bailed out, it seems his parachute had not opened.

As it happened, neither aircraft identification plates, weapon serial numbers, nor even aircraft status cards confirmed the identity of the Spitfire. Ultimately, by a process of elimination – with all other wrecks accounted for –aviation historians and archaeologists identified the West Arm Spitfire as BS231: Thorold-Smith’s Spitfire.

Raymond Thorold-Smith has no grave, and his name is recorded on the Adelaide River Memorial to the Missing. On 20 June 1989 Clive

Caldwell, Thorold-Smith’s two sisters, Ted Hall and other friends and family were given the opportunity to farewell the young pilot in a memorial service at Queenscliff Surf Lifesaving Club on Sydney’s northern beaches. It was a form of closure that had been denied Thorold-Smith’s parents. The plaque, situated a short walk from the ocean, honours him as the club’s former member and flag carrier, a state rugby union player, “Spitfire Fighter Ace”, and “dedicated, inspiring leader”. •

About The Author

Dr Kristen Alexander won the Memorial’s 2021 Bryan Gandevia Prize for Australian military–medical history. She is a visiting fellow at UNSW Canberra and the author of five books about Australia’s aviation history. The Northern Territory government is seeking submissions about whether historic aircraft wrecks should be declared a “protected class of place”.